Delirium
by jlm110108
Summary: A little piece of fluff written as part of a challenge.


"Dad," Charlie said, pointing, "here's a bank. You could get those documents notarized here before we get lunch. Banks always have notaries."

"Good idea. Donnie, you're going to wait another few minutes before you sink your teeth into Liebowitz's Reuben."

"Oh, all right. But make it fast. My mouth is already watering," Don chuckled.

As soon as they walked into the bank, it was clear that something wasn't right. The half dozen people in the bank had turned and stared at the three newcomers. Two of those people had guns. One of those guns was pointed at the Eppes family. Don breathed a curse, and tried to push Alan and Charlie back out the door.

"Don't," the man with the gun yelled. "Just get in here."

Instinctively, Alan and Charlie raised their hands as they walked forward. Don glared at the robber, who was striding toward them. The robber grabbed Alan's arm and shoved him against the wall. "Sit down, old man."

Don wouldn't know later if it was the robber's tone, or the grunt of pain he heard when Alan hit the wall, but he lost it. He grabbed the gunman and tried to wrest the gun from his hand. The second robber came up behind him and slammed the butt of his gun into Don's head. Don slumped to the floor beside his father. Alan pulled Don to him, and rested his son's head on his lap.

Charlie reached toward his brother's assailant, but the man spun, pointing the gun at Charlie's chest. "Sit down before I ..."

"Okay," Charlie lifted his hands and lowered himself to the floor. Not taking his eyes off the gun, he put his hand on Don's head. He wasn't surprised Don's hair was wet and sticky. He looked at his brother, then. "Donnie," he whispered. He turned to meet his father's eyes. "Dad, are you all right?"

"Shut up!" the first robber said. "Mike, get those other people over here and keep an eye on them."

It was then that they heard the sirens. The first robber whipped around and pointed his gun at the four bank employees. "All right. Who pushed the alarm?"

A gray-haired woman met his gaze. "I did."

The gunman fired once and the vase next to the woman shattered. She screamed and fainted.

"Oh, God," Alan said.

"Shut up, Grandpa, or the next bullet goes in your head," the gunman said.

The police had set up outside, and now one of them was hailing the robbers with a bullhorn. But Charlie wasn't interested in that. He touched Don's head again, and whispered, "Donnie? Don, wake up."

The phones on the desks started to ring. Mike had the three remaining employees drag the woman to the wall near the Eppes men and made them all sit. "Frank," he said hesitantly, "should we answer the phone?"

"You just make sure none of them tries anything, Mike. Let me handle this." He stormed to the nearest desk, picked up the phone and yelled, "What?!"

Charlie and Alan kept stroking Don's hair. Charlie took off the shirt he wore over his red tee shirt, folded it up and pressed it against the bleeding gash on the back of Don's head. Don moaned and tried to pull away. "Shhhh," Charlie said, "Don, don't move. I'm trying to stop the bleeding."

"Bleeding?" Don murmured drowsily. "Who's bleeding, Buddy?"

"You are, Donnie," Alan said. "Just lie still. We've got you."

"You've got me? What are you doing here, Dad? They let you on the field?"

"Field?" Alan said. "No, Donnie. We're in the bank."

"By the river? What happened? Did I fall?"

"Yeah," Charlie said. "You bumped your head, Bro. Just lie still."

"Aww," Don murmured. "I was having so much fun. Now I ruined everyone's vacation."

"It's okay, Donnie. You didn't ruin anything," Alan said, stroking his son's hair gently. "Just rest."

"Mmm. Okay. Hey, Daddy."

"Yes, Son?"

"I'm sorry about the Popsicles."

"Don't worry about the Popsicles, Donnie."

A tear trickled down Don's cheek. "I didn't mean to..."

"Shhhh. Donnie. It's fine. I can always buy more Popsicles, Donnie. I can't replace you."

Don nodded. "Okay, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, Son. Now rest. We'll get you to the doctor soon and get that head of yours fixed up and I'll buy you a whole box of Popsicles."

"Mmmkay." Don sighed and smiled.

"Dad?" Charlie whispered. "What was he talking about with the Popsicles?"

"Shh, Charlie. I'll explain later. I don't want to upset him any more than he already is."

Charlie leaned against the wall, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "Don doesn't even like Popsicles."

"Charlie, I said I'll explain it later," Alan said a little more loudly.

"Hey, shut up, old man," Frank said, turning to point the gun at them. He went back to talking on the phone, turning his back to them. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he said, "Mike. We're gonna give ourselves up. They said we could plea bargain since we didn't hurt anybody."

"Didn't hurt anybody?" Charlie whispered angrily.

"Shhh," Alan cautioned.

Mike and Frank left their guns on the floor and walked out through the front door with their hands up.

Charlie shook his head as he watched them leave. "It's a good thing they're not all rocket scientists."

Alan chuckled. "True." He squeezed Don's shoulder. "It's okay, Donnie, help is on its way."

After they had Don loaded into an ambulance, and Alan and Charlie recovered Don's car to follow the ambulance, Charlie finally got to the question that had been bothering him. "What was Don talking about with the Popsicles, Dad?"

"You have got to promise that you will NEVER mention this to Don or to anyone else."

"You want me to pinky swear?" Charlie grinned.

"No. Your word will be enough," Alan growled.

"I promise, Dad. Now, PLEASE tell me!"

Alan smiled as he remembered. "You used to love Popsicles when you were little. They were great when you were teething, and they were cheap enough that it seemed we could always afford to keep a few on hand for the two of you. Donnie was very competitive..."

"Even then," Charlie added.

"Even then," Alan nodded. "Anyway, Donnie was seven. Your mother had just bought a box of Popsicles. It was a stiflingly hot summer day, and Donnie was upset that your mother had given you a second Popsicle, and he had only had one. So, he waited until you and your mother were in the back yard, and he took the box of Popsicles and hid them under his pillow."

"Oh, no," Charlie said, shaking his head.

"Oh, yes," Alan said. "Later, when your mother went looking for the Popsicles, they were gone. She immediately blamed Donnie, but he was adamant that he had no idea what had happened to the Popsicles. So she sent him to his room."

Charlie laughed out loud, "The one thing he was hoping she'd do."

"I think the whole neighborhood heard his scream when he realized his loot had melted."

"Oh, man," Charlie said, still laughing.

"And to make matters worse, his pillow was soaked in all the colors of the rainbow. There was no way he could explain his way out of that."

Charlie shook his head. "No wonder he hates Popsicles!" An evil grin formed on his face.

"Oh, no, Charlie," Alan said. "Don't you dare. Don and I both have a whole catalog of embarrassing moments from your life, and we will make your life an absolute hell."

Charlie sighed. "I hate being the little brother."


End file.
